


Because the Night

by AdelineAround



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bottom Connor, Cervix Fucking, Cervix Teasing, Choking, Cunnilingus, Deep throat, HK800 - Freeform, Human Connor (Detroit: Become Human), M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Throat Fucking, Top Hank, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Sex, reverse au, tongue kink, transmasc beta'd and approved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:41:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21924592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdelineAround/pseuds/AdelineAround
Summary: Because the night belongs to lovers, because the night belongs to us.Connor's naughty thoughts of HK800'slongtongue get the better of him. It's a good thing Hank is on board with them.
Relationships: Hank Anderson/Connor
Comments: 20
Kudos: 244





	Because the Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [blackeyedblonde](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackeyedblonde/gifts).



> **THIS STORY IS IN REVERSE AU, WHICH MEANS CONNOR IS A LIEUTENANT AND HANK IS AN ANDROID.  
>  ALSO NOTE: Connor is transmasc in this fic. Terms used for specific genitalia include: hole, folds, slit, entrance, vulva, sex, nub, pearl, mound and passage.**  
> A big thank you to Kaye for coming up with this very sexy idea. I'm having a bit of a writer's block from 2019's big stress factors as the year wraps up, so please keep that in mind if my grammar is rocky throughout. Thanks for sticking with me. <3

Android anatomy is strange, especially to Connor. So when HK800’s jaw was socked hard by a runaway suspect, it should have scared him to no end. Instead, to see his- Hank’s- artificial jaw unhinge before him and gape like a ball python’s made a fire go off in his guts, made him squeeze his legs together in hopes that no one would notice.

Hank had detained the runaway after being punched, but his mandible stayed hanging by a bolt, tongue flopping like a dog’s. It was so _big_ , so incredibly inhuman yet resembled something organic like the real thing, that it brought debauched thoughts to Connor’s brain.

But Hank did not know about his desires. He did not, and there was nothing Connor could say about it without acting awkwardly around the HK800.

For the next few weeks, the image sticks in his head, haunting him in his dreams as he tries hard to focus on his job and the professional aspect of his and Hank’s relationship in the workplace. On days off, that was another story, but it never delved into the world of the man’s lewd imagination. Still, on the nights where the HK800 model is not around, either busy taking another shift at work or fine-tuning his systems for the next day, Connor will lie in his bed, hands hovering around his lower abdomen. His palms press down on the skin there, fingers daring to go lower, venture further.

How would Hank’s tongue feel, the texture upon Connor in the most intimate of places? Connor’s own fingertips, though patterned with his unique identity of ridges and grooves, are not the same; not enough to satisfy his curiosity. He rolls to his side, huffing out a sigh, adding more pressure to the nerves that reside between his sensitive folds.

Hank would probably never approve of his fantasies, Connor thinks, yet his body is on autopilot. He cannot stop himself even if he tried. Shame burns his face as he rubs a circle around himself, muscles in his thighs twitching a bit from the sudden stimulation. Connor should have wet his fingers beforehand, but it is too late to stop now. The electric current of pleasure begins to buzz under his skin as he picks up the pace, deft fingers rubbing with intent now.

In his fantasy, he leads Hank’s head down his body, feeling that artificial beard scratch delightfully along his bare skin. The android kisses each inch, not missing a beat. He would tell Connor how perfect he is, how _good_ he is, before getting to the main course.

Lord, what would Hank’s tongue feel like upon him, Connor thinks. Would it feel smooth, gliding along him without resistance? Or maybe it would have texture, just like tastebuds upon a human’s tongue, rough against him to elicit whimpers from Connor’s throat. Connor, in real time, uses the pad of his thumb to swipe over the prominent pearl of his sex. A puff of air escapes him, lungs drawing in even quicker breaths and dispersing it immediately into the cool air of his bedroom.

His other hand trails to his mouth. He wets them thoroughly with the copious saliva that collects there. Then, they are going south to join their brothers in commotion.

In his mind, Hank teases at Connor’s entrance with the soft tip of his tongue, not yet dipping into the molten heat of it just yet. But the anticipation puts him on edge and suddenly he is craving more, needing to continue else he comes away from this frustrated and unsatiated.

Without grace, Connor shoves two fingers as far as they will go.

“Oh, fuck,” he groans, turning his head to stifle his voice in the pillows as his mind plays out Hank’s voice.

“Let me hear you, lieutenant,” the imaginary Hank in his mind says, smooth and seductive.

Connor pumps his fingers back and forth in time to his fantasy, feeling himself get slicker by the minute as his mind’s eye unfolds the scenario of Hank dragging his tongue in and out of his body. Would it be slimmer at the beginning, then thicker, bigger in girth towards the base? Curling his digits, he hums as they brush by the rough patch that brings sparks of pleasure up and down his spine. Would Hank lick within him in spurts, too? Connor flutters his fingers in hopes that the android would, pressing in towards his pelvis as he bites back a shout of satisfaction.

Now _that_ is the type of pressure he hopes Hank would give him, that Hank would be attentive to it as he devours Connor. Maybe the android would even graze Connor’s engorged nub resting above his hole, ever so slightly, with his bearded upper lip. The thought of that rough stimulation is enough to make Connor squirm. It would feel unlike anything he has ever felt, probably, being literally tongue fucked by Hank with his absurdly long muscle. Humans do not have such a length; they cannot even compare.

Pleasure builds, growing taller and more prominent in Connor. He knows he will crest over into orgasm with a few more thrusts of his fingers, a few more circles around his sex…

Connor is so lost in seeking pleasure that he almost does not recognize the door opening.

“Connor?” He hears, and _that_ is when his heart almost lurches out of his chest.

Quickly, he pulls his fingers out with a pained snarl. The disappointing feeling of emptiness settles within him as he does his best to spring into action, throwing the blankets over his body to cover himself.

“Connor, are you home?”

“Shit,” slips from the lieutenant’s mouth, exposing his whereabouts.

“Connor..?” Hank calls again, bee-lining to the bedroom, footsteps heavy on the floor. Finally, he rests at the door frame, as tall and sturdy as ever. His blue eyes scan over Connor’s blanket covered body, a worried expression painting his face. “What’s wrong, lieutenant?”

“Nothing!” Connor says too fast. He would roll his eyes at himself, but adrenaline and fear keeps him stuck in a panicked frenzy to try and hide the obvious. He clears his throat, this time a bit more calm than his previous outburst, “Nothing, Hank. Don’t worry about it.”

But Hank keeps staring, eyes seeming to get bigger as he realizes all too cleverly what Connor has been doing moments before, no doubt from the multiple scans on the man’s vitals. “You’re aroused,” he finally says.

“I-” Connor cannot lie, not with his body and not to Hank’s state-of-the-art vital signs monitor. 

The android comes nearer towards the bed, towards Connor and his half-covered figure, closest to a lion on the prowl as he reacts in tandem to the man’s heightened arousal. “There’s no need to be ashamed, _sweetheart_.” Connor whimpers as he lets the pet name wash over him like a wave of short pleasure. Hank smirks as he undoes his tie, noticing how Connor’s eyes follow his every movement with a hunger in his gaze; a gaze Hank can only hope to discern. “Let me help you.”

Before Connor can protest, Hank is on him in a second, letting their lips slot together in a kiss rather than making it happen. This has to be some type of cheesy porn script, he thinks, but the thought is so fleeting that he can care less at this point. With that, it is like the man springs to life, flame in his veins as he kisses back, adding direction, contributing fuel to the already burning fire. In his mind, he wants to feel Hank’s tongue against his. He wants to feel it crawl out and race him to the back of his throat, where he can try to guess how long the android’s length is. Nibbling on Hank’s bottom lip, Connor grins against the HK800’s beard as he invites him out to play.

Hank takes charge, his tongue surging towards Connor’s like an eel striking from its den. How has Connor not noticed this before? He chases Hank with his own, following him back into his open and wanting mouth, tracing over the grooves of his own teeth before he cannot. Hank’s tongue keeps going, all the way to his back molars before the android realizes Connor cannot go that far and reroutes to mingle in the middle with the man. They kiss for a while longer until Connor loses air; sucks on the tip of Hank’s glorious oral muscle before breaking away with a gasp.

“Oh, Connor,” Hank sounds almost more out of breath than Connor, though androids do not possess the need to breathe.

Too drunk on the high of titillation, Connor admits, “You could have stayed there, you know.”

“Stayed where?” Hank lifts a silvery brow.

It dawns on Connor then, that Hank has no idea; that Connor said something without thinking and he freezes, not sure what to say.

“Stayed where, Connor?” Hank puts a hand to the man’s cheek, caressing it, and Connor melts into the touch. “Did you want me to keep kissing you?”

Breathe, Connor coaches himself. It is too late to go back. He desperately wants to feel Hank’s tongue again, the length of it, but he does not know how to ask. So, instead, he nods.

Hank nods with him, LED on his right temple spinning yellow as he tries for more answers, “Did you want me to use my tongue?”

Connor nods again, a little more sure of himself.

“Did you want me to go further?” Hank pops the next question and _that_ gives Connor something to go off of.

He raises his chin, squashing down the rest of his insecurities as he presents himself with courage. “More than that,” he says. “I want more than that, Hank.”

“Connor…”

Pull the pin, aim, and throw the grenade. Connor says, “I saw that tongue of yours, Hank, that last time when you were slugged so hard your jaw swung loose. I want you to use it. All of it. I need to know just how much your developers gave you.”

Hank’s LED blinks yellow then as he processes the confession, then blue. Connor takes the time to chew on his own cheek. “Is that all this is?” Hank responds, unphased by such an unusual, lewd request. He smiles, a devilish quality between each gap of his poly-ceramic teeth. “Oh, baby, are you begging for me?”

“Yes, yes, Hank, please.” Connor’s desperation gets the better of him. “Please, fuck me. I have to have you.”

Hank chuckles low, so softly that it reminds Connor of a cat’s purr. Hank is straddling him right now, but not for long. “I’m going to remove the covers, Con,” he forewarns. When Connor acknowledges him, only then does the HK800 move down the man’s body, peeling the bed sheets away to reveal what he knows will be a beautiful sight.

And he is correct, because what he sees is his favorite: Connor bares himself to his partner, face hot and skin slightly flushed. Some of his fingers are still sticky from his own fluids, evidence that he was not just resting in bed. Hank tears his gaze away to find the source of that stickiness, that slickness and searing heat. What he sees is the prettiest folds he has ever known. Connor drips, soaked, between his legs, folds puffy and wanting. His entrance is pulsating, hips tilting upwards in a sort of erotic dance that entrances Hank like a disco clam does a mantis shrimp.

“You’re so beautiful,” the android cannot help himself to say. His large, subtly cool hands hold Connor from under his knees then, head bowing as he gets closer. “Everything about you is beautiful, Connor.”

“ _Hank_ ,” Connor whines, and it is enough to propel Hank into a current of desire.

Instead of replying verbally, Hank makes a show of opening his mouth wide, a less horrific mirror of when his jaw was punched open. It starts off like he is showing off for a physical checkup, with his tongue only an impressive length at his chin, but then morphs into something more; something less anatomical and more... Connor does not even have a word for what is happening right now. He watches as Hank’s jaw snaps loose, tongue falling from the back of his throat like a sort of morbid red carpet. He was right in his fantasies: the tip of Hank’s tongue is much slimmer than the rest, gaining girth as it goes. He feels paralyzed in Hank’s wake, like prey that is about to be eaten alive. Hank’s tongue is moving forward to give Connor everything he has ever thought about.

Connor yowls as Hank’s tongue takes an enormous lick from his entrance up. The textured top of his dorsum is rough and smooth at the same time, sending jolts throughout his body. He spreads his legs unconsciously, inner thighs quivering as he steadies himself for whatever is next.

Surely Hank cannot talk when his tongue is so far out, he thinks, but he is wrong when he hears the android’s voice loud and clear, “So sensitive, love.”

A mewl bubbles from Connor’s chest. How is Hank doing this? Damn androids are built so differently, with a speaker module that does not require teeth and tongue to communicate. “Haaank,” he cries when Hank licks a thick stripe over his mound, sending his mind into a frenzy.

With the end of his tongue, Hank swirls it around the place he knows will throw Connor a curveball; he curls it around the man’s prominent nub sticking out between sopping folds and tugs gently.

Connor gawks at the action, not sure what he felt, but knows it is absolutely amazing. His back arches off the bed, hole pouring more slick down his already wet vulva. A gasp escapes him when Hank retracts his long tongue, closing the distance between Connor and his own bearded face. Connor should be scared of the sight in front of him, Hank looking so inhuman and something that has come out of a horror film, but the lieutenant is too turned on to mind. In fact, it heightens the embers in his belly to no end, his desire for Hank to go down on him tenfold. Hank keeps his eyes open as he puts his lips around Connor, pressing his tongue flat against the man before flicking up and down. Hands shoot out to hold his head, Connor’s fingers intertwining with the android’s silvery locks of artificial hair.

God, he feels like he is on top of the world. Connor’s head lolls back, eyes sliding shut as he takes everything in. Pleasure builds within him as he points his feet and heaves with every breath. Hank is so diligent in his technique that Connor will come in a matter of seconds if the android does not stop now. With a groan, he pulls Hank off of him, gulping when he sees just how much he has made a mess of them both.

“No.” He swallows, trying to find his voice. “No, I need to know.”

Hank takes a moment to understand, but then Connor’s sentence becomes painfully clear. The man needs his _tongue inside_.

“Yes, sir,” Hank whispers, pupils so blown that his eyes are a darker shade of blue, a reddish retinal light faint within the middle of the dark abyss; another android trait, Connor figures.

With a soft ‘pop’, Hank’s jaw unhinges further, gaping wide enough where his tongue can invade and fill the rest of the space that isn’t his teeth and gums. He takes a moment to stay still, as if not to frighten Connor away, but the man just stares at him with half-lidded eyes, a pretty pink tint along his cheeks. Leaving little kiss-licks along Connor’s creamy legs, Hank slithers his way to prod at Connor’s front entrance.

“Stop teasing,” the lieutenant manages to huff when Hank only nudges at his hole, not quite dipping in. “Hank, if you don’t hurry up, I’ll take your tongue and do it myse- aaah!”

Suddenly, Hank’s big tongue is thrusting in, breaching Connor without warning. It wiggles then, up against each ridge of Connor’s insides, eliciting unchecked moans from his mouth. There is no need to wait for the man to adjust; Connor immediately poises his hips for more. So, the android gives him what he wants, feeds the length of his tongue into Connor. Just when he thinks the man cannot take any more, Connor’s passage relaxes, opens for Hank’s impossible girth.

“You’re so hungry for me, sucking me in like this,” Hank says without moving his lips, and it causes Connor to doubletake. Oh, right, android audio speaker. Ingenious. The HK800’s voice is a little tinny with his tongue stuck deep within Connor, but it is understandable nonetheless.

Connor flushes deep, from the apple of his cheeks to his décolletage.

“Is that your attempt at dirty talk?” he tries to joke, but the words die and crumble to ash when Hank traces an oval around the most intimate part within him. Connor’s lungs deflate all at once as tears rim the corners of his doe-brown eyes. “Oh fuck, what was that?”

Hank does it again, jabbing that spot in Connor lightly rather than letting up. Connor doubles over, pulling at Hank’s bangs. He prods the tip of his tongue above it, then below it, taking in and analyzing every little shiver from his partner. Connor is so velvety and hot like molten lava, throbbing around him. Attentively, he follows the firm, smooth circlet to the divet towards the middle, skimming the surface of it before dipping in just slightly.

At that, Connor _screams_.

His orgasm hits him right between his eyes, so abruptly that all he sees is white. Behind his optical lenses, dizzying fireworks bloom in indistinguishable hues. The blood in his veins bubble and boil. He is thrown up into oblivion, coming down far too early, crashing back into his being without grace.

Connor shudders from the oversensitivity as Hank licks at that place again, answering the man’s question at long last. “That was your cervix, Connor,” he notes. “Did you like that?”

“M-my…” Connor attempts to iterate, but Hank won’t let him, thrusting at the tight ring of his cervix. His body contracts, shaking him apart piece by piece. It feels. It just _feels_. “Hank, Hank, so much. It’s too much.”

“Shhh,” Hank shushes him. “One more time, kitten. You can do it.”

Whatever Connor is trying to conjure up is not coherent enough for Hank to comprehend. Instead, the man releases his hands from Hank’s hair, pulling the bed sheets into a death grip as he hangs on for dear life. He is sensitive and raw, and Hank is still working his tongue into him. Connor closes his eyes, still twitching from the continuous stimulation.

Hank begins to speed up, go faster. In, out, in and out, his thrusts become more diligent, more determined than the last. Connor is burning from the inside out, his mind becoming clouded with each billow of pleasure. Hank is so deep inside him that it feels like the android is in his belly, fucking him in ways no human ever could. He has to remember Hank isn’t human, only modeled after homosapien stature. 

In the corner of his eye, he can see Hank reach down and palm himself. How big is that android’s cock standing now, Connor wonders. Is this turning Hank on just as much as he is? His thoughts are fleeting as Hank deems it necessary to piledrive right below his cervix, raw sensation taking their place. By god, he loves this. He loves the HK800 so much.

Connor is nearly there to his second orgasm when Hank stops, and he growls at being denied ultimate satisfaction. Hank tsks, drawing back to relish in the needy whimpers his human gives him, willing and wanting more.

Hastily, Hank shucks the clothing off his body and into a pile on the floor; he will pick it up later. His tongue retracts back into him like a ruler, deep into his components again until he needs to use it.

“Patience, Connor,” he cooes, but Connor is not having any of it.

The man makes to grab at his shoulders, throwing his legs around Hank’s waist. They both groan at the contact when Connor’s hips lurch upwards, his drenched sex connects superficially with Hank’s huge member.

“Now, Hank, now.” Connor can only use commands, the niceties of requests gone from his vocabulary. He ruts up again, his wet folds sliding along Hank’s cock.

The HK800 is at his limit; he does not even have to say anything before he reaches down to take himself at the base and line it up with Connor’s dripping slit. There is a second’s pause, then Hank is pushing in.

Connor’s eyes seem to roll back in their sockets, pretty eyelashes fluttering tens of times as he chants, “Yes, yes yes!”

Stretched from Hank’s enormous tongue, the android enters Connor easily, not stopping until he is at the hilt. He feels so full, like Hank is right where he is meant to be.

The pace is fast and harsh, no room for foreplay or adjustment as they have passed that threshold some time ago. Connor gets lost in the sound of artificial skin slapping against his own organic one, the noise of his fluids being frothed by the force of action between he and Hank. The heat of their coupling is consuming him, enveloping both of them. Blazes rise to his capillaries. The velveteen feel of being penetrated is so divine that Connor gasps with each thrust in, his body’s ache to be filled finally lulled by Hank himself.

Hank seals their lips together again, this time both of their mouths open for what Connor wants most. With precision, the HK800 plunges his tongue into Connor’s hot cavern, then further, all the way until Connor is choking on him, throat closing around the tongue until the man breathes through his nose and exerts energy into not going tense.

Hank thrusts his tongue in tandem with his pelvis, fucking Connor again and again, sensible of the pleasure winding taut like a kite on a string; it will snap and the ecstasy will descend over them both. A pop-up in his HUD notifies him that he will overheat if he continues at the speed and strength that he is at, but Hank dismisses it. He puts everything into his actions now, knowing that his orgasm is inevitable. His thrusts become erratic, hurried, dorsum rough along the smooth lining of Connor’s delectable pharynx. He chases the tail of his ultimate pleasure, thirium pump pounding as if it were a human’s heart, searching for the orgasmic crescendo that is so close he can almost taste it.

Connor yelps, or tries to, when Hank floods him below, filling his passage with warm fluid. The android pumps it up inside him, hot and heavy. Trails of salty tears fall down his cheeks in satisfaction as he chokes on Hank’s long tongue, airway confused and spasming as it takes in the foreign intrusion that keeps _licking_. All of this is so much, too much, and Connor finally finds purchase for the second time tonight.

With a lack of oxygen and overflowing pleasure from the brim, Connor is propelled into outer space, stars exploding and imploding in front of him. His whole body becomes hard as titanium before morphing into a gooey substance like salt water taffy, tensile, bent into everything and nothing at the same time. He becomes every direction, North, West, East, South; the poles of the earth call for him, beckon him over. He is stuck between them, fully impaled below and above by Hank. He feels _complete_.

Slowly, so slowly, Connor comes to. The tongue in his throat is gone, back to its respective owner. He breathes with no difficulty, though everything is raw and feels a little sore. Between his legs is a mess even though Hank is still lodged deep. The remnants of their coupling leaks onto his skin and down onto the bedding.

They lie there for a while with Hank resting next to Connor on his side. When Hank slips out, it causes the man to let out a hiss, putting a hand to cover himself and catch what dribbles out of him. The bed sheets are already ruined, he realizes, and gives up. Cleanup can wait for later.

“Wow,” is the first thing that comes from his mouth and he is not sure if he is meant to laugh or not, but he does anyway, mirth bubbling from his lips. He smiles, not sure what to say next, but Hank brings him into a soft peck.

“Yeah, wow.” Hank reflects his lieutenant’s grin.

“I love you.” Connor connects them with another kiss that has more meaning than what can be conveyed in words.

Hank brings the man into his arms, his thirium pump beating steadily. “I love you too, Connor. I love you, too.”

They will talk about what just happened at a later time. For now, Connor yawns, letting sleep overtake him for the night, cradled lovingly in his android’s protective arms.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Holidays!  
> I'll see you in the next year.
> 
> Find me @ra9ical on twitter for exclusives and EMT AU Tina Chen cosplay.


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